


The Killing Kind

by Plasmeic_Aether



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), M/M, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader is FtM trans, Tags May Change, Transgender Reader - Freeform, Underfell Alphys (Undertale), Underfell Asgore Dreemurr, Underfell Frisk (Undertale), Underfell Mettaton (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Toriel (Undertale), why is that not a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26546272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plasmeic_Aether/pseuds/Plasmeic_Aether
Summary: Monsters have been above ground for 3 months.Society is starting to accept them, and well. You understand what it means for it to take time to be understood.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Kudos: 17





	The Killing Kind

It had been about 3 months since monsters returned to the surface.

Protag was certain things could have been a lot worse - humans could have immediately disgraced the monsters, not welcoming them back. Many monsters expected that much, it seemed, having been ready to fight tooth and nail in order to get a home on the surface. Not that he could blame them.

But he didn’t want to focus too much on the negatives- Protag just wanted to get himself a drink and head on home. He was already exhausted from working today - Starbucks was a good job, but it really took energy out of him; so a drink would do him good. Getting his mind off of his coworker, who kept sneering in the back about any monster patron that came in. It just made his job harder.

Instead of heading to one of the human-run bars, he decides to stop by Grillby’s. The only people brave enough to go in there were monsters, at this point, and Protag was pretty sure that it’d be nice to get an extra patron or two. Plus, hey, he and monsters had the whole ‘general community not understanding and barely tolerating them’ thing in common. It was difficult going through life having been known by another name. At least it was unlikely anyone here would know him before he started to transition.

He enters Grillby’s, and is greeted by the cool blue lights on the inside. The few regular patrons had their seats taken, but someone had taken Protag’s normal spot: someone easily taller than him, and leant over the bar with his own drink. Instead of bothering with the whole, ridiculous, ‘hey that's my seat!’ thing, he just walks up to the bar and takes a seat beside the hulking figure. 

“Just a beer, thanks.” He says to Grillby, who gives him a flicker that seems like a nod before going to the drinks held up at the back wall. While he was busy with that, Protag actually spared a look over at the person having taken his normal seat, finding the monster already staring back at him. Wait-

“Red?”

“[DN?]”

Protag’s chest clenches at the reminder. Ah, yeah. He’d met Red before he came out of the closet. Fuck, this was awkward.

Protag took a moment to get his emotions under control, but it was clear Red had seen the shift in his expression. He was always hyper-observant, so something so obvious wouldn’t go over his head.

“Wha’s the face about? Not happy to see me?” he asks, grinning like a shark before taking another chug of his mustard. Ew.

“Uh, no - nothing like that.” Protag shifted uneasily in his seat. He could almost feel the other patrons’ eyes on him.

“It’s just that it’s, uh. It’s Protag now.” He says, getting a quizzical look from Red.

“Protag, huh? Pretty guy-ish name for someone like you.”

That hit Protag somewhere internally, mixed between disgust at himself and anger at Red for not just getting the hint.

“I’m a guy, Red. I’m trans.”

That gets the large skeleton monster to pause, squinting at you from over his mustard as Grillby sets two beers in front of you. When you go to correct him, he holds up his hand, a flicker of an apologetic expression there and gone when he goes to take someone else’s order. More icky feelings stir in your gut while you open one bottle, while Red stares at you.

“Oh. Well, I guess the name Protag fits ya better anyway. You always were boyish.” he says, and while Protag knows that he’s trying to be supportive, he can’t shake how that just sounds… wrong. It gets him to stand up from his seat, pulling cash from his pocket and placing it on the bar before taking both his bottles of beer.

“Thanks for the beer, Grillbz.” He says, and the fire monster nods. Then, Protag leaves, leaving Red to sit on his lonesome while getting looks from the rest of the patrons.

Protag doesn’t sleep well that night. He keeps drifting in and out of sleep, waking from dreams he can’t quite remember every two hours before drifting back to sleep. When he, finally, wakes up at the proper time, he doesn’t feel rested at all… but his phone has a notification, buzzing away on his desk.

Sluggishly, Protag shrugs on a shirt and a pair of sweats. He doesn’t have work for another couple hours, so he grabs the phone and slumps into his chair, opening it to find a message from another monster he vaguely recognizes when he reads the name given to him. Ugh.

> From: Unknown at 8:45 AM: Greetings, Protag. It is to my understanding this is your phone number, given to me by the person of whom you work for at the coffee establishment. I would like to humbly apologize for my brother’s actions. I am The Great Papyrus, and I was curious as to if you would like to meet up before your work day begins today? Perhaps at around 10:30?

He writes in such a polite manner, compared to Red’s gruff tone and halfhearted speaking. It makes Protag… suspicious. This guy knows where he works, and knows about what happened between him and Red.

> From: Protag at 9:01 AM: Hey. I don’t really know who you are, and you sort of messaged me without knowing me beforehand. So I don’t really trust you. How did you get this number from my boss?

Protag waits for a response as he leaves his room, phone in hand. He grabs the coffee grounds from the cupboard and grabs a tablespoon, chucking some into the filter before running water into the coffee maker. As he does, his phone goes off again. 

> From: Unknown at 9:06 AM: My apologies for being so forward and not coming to you personally. I intimidated your boss and coworkers into giving me your number under threat of warning the embassy of anti-monster propaganda working here. They gave me your number rather easily afterwards.

That makes Protag’s heart sink. Shit - what if that meant they thought he was anti-monster? That meant he wouldn’t be able to work there, and if he couldn’t he couldn’t get the insurance from the job in order to…

> From: Protag at 9:07 AM: WHAT? Please tell me it wasn’t me you said was anti-monster, Papyrus, oh my god. I’ll meet with you just make sure they know that.

Protag was shaking as he poured himself a coffee, added four tablespoons of sugar, and stirred. He waited for what felt like hours for a response from Papyrus, sipping his coffee and checking his phone every few moments, until there was another ping.

> From: Unknown at 9:12 AM: Do not worry, it was simply one of their other workers having been posting anti-monster propaganda on social media. As I work for the embassy, I’m aware of most of these happenings and where they stem from. Your work is safe.

Oh thank the stars. He relaxes, running a hand over his face before responding.

> From: Protag at 9:14 AM: Thanks, Papyrus. I’ll see you at 10:30.


End file.
